House of Royals(29)

Once again, I find myself asking if Rath is an ordinary human, a more extreme version of Ian, or the most composed vampire in all of time. Then again, I’ve seen his eyes, and they appear to still dilate. From what I’ve been taught, that’s a sure sign of still being human.

We park right in front of city hall. It’s an ancient, beautiful building that nearly rivals the Conrath Estate in its historical charm.

“You call me for anything,” Rath reinforces. His eyes are dead serious and pained. This isn’t easy for him. He served my father and now that loyalty has transferred to his only daughter.

“I’ll be okay,” I say, resting a hand on his forearm. “I promise.”

He looks like he wants to believe me, but I can tell he doesn’t.

I climb out and shut the door behind me anyway.

Bodies crowd into the building, heels click on the concrete steps. Jazz music, lively and entertaining, spills out onto the sidewalk.

Twice the enchantment exists in here as did outside.

It’s something from a dream. Lights and lace and candles and twirling gowns and masked faces. The party already started an hour ago. It’s well under way. The scent of alcohol is heavy, woven with women’s perfumes and the candles.

When the crowd surges forward from behind me, I am forced to step inside and become a part of this.

Quickly, I slip my mask on.

I’m walking into the lion’s den, but I am not unprepared. There are no less than ten stakes hidden in the folds of my skirt. There’s a handgun strapped around my calf. I wish I could have hidden a crossbow on me somewhere, but the dress didn’t begin to allow it. My cell phone is tucked between my breasts with Rath and Ian’s numbers on speed dial.

A drunken couple stumbles into my back, nearly sending me flying. I crash into a man walking by, and he catches me awkwardly.

“Whoa there,” he says, smiling as he rights me. He wears a mask with a flare of peacock feathers. He gives me a devilish smile. “Did you just fall from heaven, angel? I must insist you be more careful.”

I barely resist rolling my eyes.

“Save a dance for me later,” he says, winking at me before walking away. I watch him as he goes. He exits out a door toward the back of the ballroom.

As I look around the room, everyone is suspicious.

The House hosts this party every year, Rath had said. I can only assume that every one of them attends their own party.

I wonder, if I weren’t wearing this mask, if my face weren’t hidden, how many people would recognize me for who I am? How many people here would be afraid of me? How many would look at me with disdain and condemn me for the sins of my father?

Is what he did really a sin? It was the town that attacked in the first place, after all. My father had done nothing wrong. I’m not sure how I would have reacted if I’d seen my only brother so brutally murdered and then put on display for all to see.

A waitress with the faint yellow glow in her eyes of a Bitten offers me a glass of wine. I take it without realizing what I’m doing, so I don’t drink it. I need to be as clear minded as possible tonight if I’m going to survive.

Fifteen minutes pass, and finally, the crowd shifts, and I notice the nine ornate chairs at the front of the hall. Sitting in the center one is a masked Jasmine Veltora.

To her right is a black man in an ornate suit and a simple black mask. In another chair is a severe-looking young woman in a tight suit. There’s another young man. And then I see the man who caught me walk back into the ballroom. He wipes at something in the corner of his mouth before taking his seat. The two are unmistakably brothers, even with the masks on.

“Awesome party, huh?”

I spin around to the voice behind me.

There’s a guy there, probably a little bit younger than me. He’s holding a plate with an assortment of food. His smile is bordering on comical, and I can smell weed on him. He’s high as a kite and one of the perky, happy kinds. And of course, he wears a jester’s mask.

“Yeah, some party,” I say, looking around the crowd.

“You should try the food,” he continues. “It’s to die for. I am so hungry. Well, I should be so hungry.”

I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but the kid turns and walks away.

I work my way further and further into the crowd. Couples surge and dance and kiss and smile and laugh. I find myself feeling caught up in it all. This is glamorous and from another time and place than the one I come from.

My view to the thrones opens up again, and I see another woman take her place. She’s thin, but looks strong, with short black hair and glowing skin. And her dress is amazing.

Except for the two small red dots on her sleeve.